Trick ordered another drink.
Well, he had his answer.
Lyla wasn’t coming.
With both arms folded on the bar, he leaned over it waiting for the bartender to come back with the bottle he’d ordered. If there was ever a reason to get blitzed, being dumped by his wife was it.
But he couldn’t blame her, not after the way the show had been cut on Wednesday. Turned out his fears were justified. The studio had cut the team-building break to look like Lyla was the jealous one, and Kira was the seductive goddess. So when they made it look like he and his ex had got it on in the forest, he couldn’t really blame Lyla for wanting rid of him.
He actually hated himself for loving her so much. If he could just get her out of his system, she’d be so much better off without him. All along he’d known that she deserved more. But in that canteen when he’d given her the invitation to the party, he’d really expected her to come back to him.
Seeing that tear on her cheek had made him want to hit something.
Hard.
The only reason he hadn’t harassed her every day after she moved back to her place was because he thought it was her choice to leave him. Because she’d figured out what he knew all along, she was a goddess who deserved more than he could give her.
She’d said she was lost without him.
Yet, here he was, eight days later, standing at the bar, at his own birthday party…
Alone.
Folks came over to pat his back and shake his hand, but he didn’t want to engage with anyone. Doing only what he had to, he dismissed them and turned his back as soon as he could. He’d told Green and Tate that he was going for a slash, that was ten minutes ago. He intended to go back to the top table and he would… soon. He’d turn it on… after a few more shots.
“I’m not giving you your present until Sunday.”
Turning to look over his shoulder, he was pissed off to see Sadie sliding onto a stool beside him. For some reason, his friend reminded him of Lyla. He didn’t blame them for what had happened, didn’t blame anyone, except Bunyan.
“There’s a whole table of presents somewhere,” he said. “I don’t care about presents.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Sadie said, snatching his chin to haul his gaze away from the blonde. “No. You hear me? No.”
“What?” he asked, fixating on the blonde again. “Can’t do any harm.”
“It can do a lot of harm and you know it. You’re not that guy anymore. Geez, Trick, it’s been, what? Four years? Five? Since you screwed anything with a pretty smile and nice tits.”
“She has great tits,” he said, turning around to lean on one elbow as he winked at the blonde who looked away on a giggle. “Yep, I’m in.”
“You’re always in,” Sadie said and put a hand on his chest to slide it up to his face in what was far too intimate a gesture for a friend to use.
“What the hell?” he asked, grabbing her hand and tossing it away.
Sadie grinned. “If you can’t handle me doing that, how are you going to handle that sucking your dick?” she asked, nodding backwards at the woman she hadn’t even looked at. Elevating her chin, Sadie leaned closer. “Are her tits nicer than Lyla’s?”
Scowling, he twisted to drop both forearms back to the bar as he sought out the bartender. “Why did you do that? You ruined it.”
But that was exactly what his friend wanted to do. “Why? Because thinking about Lyla activates your conscience?”
“I’m always thinking about Lyla,” he muttered.
“And that should tell you something.”
Looking up and down the bar, he was searching for the bartender he’d ordered with. “Where is my drink?”
Sadie took a big breath. “It’s not coming.”
Flipping around, he got more pissed at the woman who couldn’t pull off innocent. “What the hell?”
“I don’t want you getting drunk tonight,” Sadie said.
“It’s my birthday, I’m allowed to get drunk…” He glanced up to see the blonde still watching him. “And laid.”
“It’s not your birthday until Sunday,” Sadie said. “Hence what I said about my gift to you. However…”
She made a show of opening her purse and pulling out a small gift-wrapped box to place it on the bar. With a finger on the top of it, she pushed it toward him.
Why would she say she wasn’t giving him a gift and then put a gift on the bar? “What is that?” he asked.
“It’s a keychain,” Sadie said.
He hadn’t actually expected her to tell him what it was. “Why do I need a keychain from you?”
“It’s not from me.”
“Then how do you know what’s in it?”
“Because Lyla wanted to know if it was too cheesy… I think she was worried that you might make fun of her. I told her it was sweet and if you didn’t think so then you didn’t deserve her.”
Letting his eyes fall to the small black box with its gold bow, he was curious, but sort of afraid too. “She gave you a gift to give to me, but she didn’t show up?”
Sadie shifted in her seat, twisting her crossed legs toward the bar as she took her eyes away from him. “Well, she was supposed to give it to you herself. But… she couldn’t be here. I said I would pass it on. Open it.”
He didn’t want to. But if he made a big deal of it then he would draw attention to his crappy mood. Pulling off the lid, Trick tried to huff like this was just inconvenient. It was a keychain, he saw it as he unwrapped the black tissue folded over the top, it was a heavy one, in the shape of a key, the top was a heart with words inscribed. “Nairn, the key to my heart belongs to you” it read on the front and when he turned it over the words were larger. “Always, your love, Malloy.”
Curling his fingers around the token, he clenched his teeth. “Damn,” he hissed.
When he noticed the blonde at the end of the bar still checking him out, he dropped his gaze and bowed his head. Had he really thought about touching any other woman? Being honest with himself, Trick had to admit that acting like he was thinking about it didn’t mean he’d ever have let his feet move.
Sadie put a hand on his arm and got closer. “Her faith in you hasn’t wavered,” she murmured. “Every interview, they push her, they ask if she thinks you’re cheating. Every time she smiles. She smiles, Trick, like they’re making a joke. Last time they asked she said there wasn’t an atom in her body that could believe for a nanosecond that you’d even think about being with another woman. She loves you. Don’t forget that when peppy little blondes are making eyes at you thinking about their five minutes in the limelight.”
Sadie spun her stool away, and was about to leave when he lunged around to grab her arm. “Then, where is she?” he asked. “We could be together, right now. I told her to come back to me and she hasn’t even called me.” When her eyes dropped again, he got worried. “Say?”
“I’m not allowed to tell you,” Sadie said.
“She told you not to tell me?” he asked, his mind racing with ideas.
Where could she be that he couldn’t know? Could she be with another guy? If she was, why would she give him this key?
“Not her,” Sadie said. “The studio.”
Tightening his fist around the key, Trick felt the need to break something, preferably Bunyan’s face. “I don’t give a crap about the studio!”
“Shh,” she said, closing the last of the space between them. “Her dad died.”
Panic and worry slapped him hard. “What?”
“She got a call on Sunday night. Her dad was rushed to hospital with chest pain. They kept him overnight, said it was fine and let him out. Lyla stayed with her parents, and thank God she did… on Wednesday he dropped dead, right there in the kitchen, right in front of her… She did CPR for twenty minutes until the paramedics showed up… but he was gone.”
Trick didn’t even think; he had to get to her now. Except Sadie grabbed him. “You can’t go to her,” she said. “The only reason the studio are keeping this quiet and giving her a break is because of this, your birthday. Haven’t you noticed that they’ve been all over you with events this week?”
He had, and he hadn’t liked it, but he didn’t mind if it took pressure from Lyla who struggled with being the center of attention. “Sadie,” he said, “I told her this was for real… I love her. I don’t give a damn about the show or the studio. My wife is in pain. Where should I be?”
The whole thing felt shallow. It always had felt frivolous, but now he felt like a prize prick. He was standing here at a party while the woman he loved was going through one of the most traumatic things she’d ever endure. That didn’t scream “real” relationship.
Sadie’s hand fell from his arm and she stepped back. “I’ll text you her parents address… I’ll cover as long as I can.”
“Thank you,” he mouthed, backing away from her and taking his fist to his chest.
Everything in his world made sense as he paced out of that hotel ballroom.
Everything.
He ignored every person who tried to come near him and kept his focus on one thing.
His wife.
She needed him and they’d been apart for too long.